


Hyperfixation

by LetMeEntertainYou



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Autism, Fluff, Hyperfixation, M/M, Special Interest, platonic maylor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 20:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeEntertainYou/pseuds/LetMeEntertainYou
Summary: Roger felt his eyes prick with tears. He started to flap his arms as he made his way over to his room, irritated, angry, sad. All he could think of was how bad he was. A bad friend. A bad person.





	Hyperfixation

**Author's Note:**

> My blog is Disabled-Queen-HC on tumblr.  
> Anon asked: Imagine Brian trying to be as supportive as possible with Roger's new hyperfixation and listening for hours while Roger tells him every single detail about his newest interest, and then comforting Roger when he starts to feel self-conscious about his rambling. Just endlessly talking about my hf is something that happens to me so much and I always feel like shit for the person after im done talking.

“But that’s not even all of it. Africa is the home of drums. It’s where it’s all started! There’s the ashiko and the rik and the doumbek! And there’s hundreds more! We rea-” Roger stopped mid-sentence.

His eye caught the time. 8pm. Had he really been talking for 2 hours straight? About drums?

A realization worse than that hit him. Brian wasn’t even listening. Sure, he was sitting next to him in the dining nook, but his face was buried in a newspaper. He hadn’t even noticed the sudden stop in conversation. Well, ramble.

Roger felt his stomach turn and churn. A red hot embarrassment crept up his face. He chewed on his lip as it quivered.

He’d done it again. Bored someone to death with his infodumps. Made another person believe he was incapable of holding a back and forth conversation.

What a rotten friend he was. Absolutely rotten.

Abruptly, he stood up and left the room. Not that Brian would care. He’d probably find relief in the silence.

Roger felt his eyes prick with tears. He started to flap his arms as he made his way over to his room, irritated, angry, sad. All he could think of was how bad he was. A bad friend. A bad person.

He nearly had the door open when a hand caught his shoulder.

“Where’d you go, Roger? We were having such a nice chat and you left,” Brian said, head tilted to the side. Roger turned to face him, horribly hiding how close he was to sobbing.

“Y-You didn’t even care when I stopped talking. You’re just t-trying to be nice. I’m a horrible friend, I know,” he spluttered out with the occasional stammer. He continued to flap, the only way to get his emotions out when words failed him.

Brian’s eyes grew wide, head shaking vigorously. “I though you needed some time to think of what to say next. I wasn’t ignoring you!” he replied.

Now Roger shook his head, blubbering out, “But you were reading the paper. You don’t have to lie. I need to learn how to be a better talker. Better friend,”

The tension in Brian’s face melted. This was an issue the two had. Roger was always happy to infodump, but ashamed afterwards.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Taylor. I wouldn’t hang out with you if you were a shoddy friend. I love talking to you. I love hearing you tell me things. Things I didn’t even know existed before you opened your mouth,”

Roger pouted childishly, eyebrows furrowed. Brian was just saying that. Everyone always said that to spare his feelings.

“And I was reading the paper, because…look for yourself,” Brian said as he grabbed Roger’s hand and dragged him back into the kitchen. He gave him the newspaper and pointed to an advertisement.

_“History of Music Museum now open!”_

“I was looking at the details to see if they had anything on drums and they did. I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me,”

Oh.

Roger looked at the ad a little longer before placing it back down on the table. He chewed on his thumbnail, eyes cast downward.

“I overreacted?” he asked.

Brian chuckled, pulling in the drummer for a side hug. “A little. It’s okay. I need to work on listening better anyways,” Brian said as he gave the other a squeeze. It made a small smile erupt on Roger’s face.

“You’re a  _fantastic_ friend, Rog. And that’s why I’m gonna take you to that museum and you’re gonna tell me everything those little infocards can’t, right?”

Roger’s smile grew, nodding excitedly.

“…I bet they have some misinformation there,” Roger squeaked.

“I bet they do, mate.”


End file.
